Pietas
by truglasgowgal
Summary: Saying goodbye to a man he never knew; a father who was never there; a Daddy that never truly loved him, that he could do. Saying goodbye to a misconception was something else entirely. CB. BE. Based on alternate S1 ending.
1. Prologue

Hey there!  
Another of my fics that got put on the backburner this summer, and that I've decided to try and complete in order to post. I don't think the chapters should be too long, and there shouldn't be too many of them, but we'll see ;)  
Enjoy…  
(Also, if anyone's wondering if all my time's being spent on new fics, don't worry I am planning on updating Through Mist & Elegance tonight, or this afternoon possibly ;) – and yes, that was shameless plugging for anyone who's not read it :P )

* * *

**Title:** Pietas  
**Disclaimer:** I own nothing of Gossip Girl, sad that it is, I really and truly don't ;)  
**A/N:** Loosely based on the alternate ending of the finale, though some things have been unaltered. So, SLIGHT SPOILERS if you haven't seen the finale or the alternate ending. Nothing of Season Two here though :)  
**Summary: **Saying goodbye to a man he never knew; a father who was never there; a _Daddy_ that never truly loved him, that he could do. Saying goodbye to a misconception was something different entirely. CB. Based on alternate S1 ending.

_**"The bitterest tears shed over graves are of words left unsaid and deeds left undone."  
- Harriet Beecher Stowe**_

...

Prologue

"_Love is everything it's cracked up to be… It really is worth fighting for, being brave for, risking everything for.__"  
__ - Erica Jong_

It is early when she gets the call. Well, early by Tuscany's standards anyway.

Bart was dead; her mother was in hysterics, and Chuck… "I need you," she tells her. "I don't know what to do," she admits, and the brunette can hear the tears in her best friend's voice even before the river has begun it slow meandering.

She takes a moment to compose herself; compartmentalize. Try to take in the fact that her best friend's stepfather is dead barely a day after his wedding, that the woman he just married is suddenly more likely to be admitted to the Ostroff Center than her two wayward children; that the boy she loved, no _loves_, is indescribable in his grief; inconsolable without her by his side.

She is Blair Waldorf; she can do this.

And so she nods in confirmation, even though her best friend cannot see her, and says, "I'll be on the next flight."

She's about to hang up when she pauses for a moment, adding, "Hang in there, S."

__

"It is not so much our friends' help that helps us as the confident knowledge that they will help us."  
- Epicurus

**  
TBC…**

* * *

Thanks for reading, and please let meknow what you thought - it means alot!  
Steph  
xxx


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter One

_"If ignorance is bliss, why aren't more people happy?_ _What you don't know will always hurt you."  
- First Law of Blissful Ignorance_

Apparently, there was a photo of Chuck in his father's wallet. The same wallet that they'd had to pry out of the dead man's hand: cold and unyielding, even then; maybe, especially then. And the photo now rests between his son's fingers, the edges curling in on themselves; worried even further atop years of weathering the storm.

She sits down beside him on the couch, doesn't make a sound; she's well aware of what he can be like when

"I don't even remember when this was taken," he says the words so quietly she almost has to strain to hear them.

"I think it was after I started High School, but I can't be sure," he continues, eyes boring into the worn card.

The rawness in his voice, like skin across gravel, nearly breaks her when he says, "Why don't I remember?"

He turns to look at her then, silence passing between them.

"What are you doing here?" he asks, brow furrowing slightly. "Why aren't you in Tuscany?"

She reaches over, her eyes never leaving his, and takes his hand in her own, as she tells him, "I'm with you, Chuck, wherever you are, I'm with you there."

X

She leaves Chuck lying in his bed, finally having succumbed to exhaustion, and meanders her way silently through the penthouse to find Serena. Who she finds, however, is Eric.

"Hey," she says softly, and walks towards him.

He looks up from his place on the large sofa and gives her a small smile, "Hey."

She sits down next to him, and turns to face him, asking, "How are you?"

He shrugs in a half-hearted motion, "Ok, I guess."

She tilts her head, and he gives her a small reassuring smile in response, telling her, "I'm not going to do anything, if that's what you're worried about."

"I wasn't," she answers him simply.

He nods, because he believes her, but for some reason he still feels the need to placate her thoughts. "Well done."

She lifts her head sharply to eye him. "Excuse me?"

He nods in recognition of the red mark on her arm, and she knows he probably heard; heard the crashes, the bangs, the terrorized screaming and the shattering of glass and mirror; the walls aren't that thick.

"I'm sorry if he hurt you, I know he'd never intentionally do that," he expands, his words sincere.

"No, he wouldn't," she agrees softly, and is grateful to at least be able to share this common thought with another; because Chuck wouldn't hurt her, not if he could help it: he cares about her too much.

And it was almost a relief to know she isn't the only one who can see this; the only one who can feel it.

"But in the space of a few hours you seem to have been able to evoke more reaction in him than any of us have since it happened," he explains.

A silence settles over them then, and after a short while she turns to look at him again, and asks, "How did he find out?"

"He was on his way to meet you, and his limo stopped at the scene," he tells her, watching her eyes. "My mother was in a mess, crying, on the sidewalk, and Chuck – "

He stops, and it's like he's choked, and she thinks his eyes have suddenly become more glassy than they were before, more glassy than they should be.

"He got out and went over to my mother, helped her up and took her to his own limo, and sent her to the hospital," the younger boy tells her then.

And then suddenly it's like his eyes are boring straight into hers, piercing her very soul, with his next words, "He walked through the throng of people and went straight to where his father's body lay. There was a sheet over his body; it was disrespectful, and cold and – I guess he felt he had to do something about it."

"Oh no," she breathes out, and her hands fly to her face; she knows exactly what Chuck had done.

He nods, his face showing her he shares her sentiment, and he continues, "He knelt down, put his arms around him and lifted him up. Then he carried his body over to the private ambulance that was waiting nearby, and placed his father inside, and rode with him to the hospital."

"Why?" she asks: the younger boy's already answered it, and she knows herself, but she can't help the word escaping from her lips.

He shakes his head. "He came back from the hospital alone. In all honesty, Serena and I had our hands full with our mother, and he slipped away before we could do anything."

She nods, because she understands. She doesn't like it; that he was alone, left to his own devices, his solitude more apparent than ever. But she can understand.

"He hasn't left his room since," he tells her then. "Hasn't eaten or drank anything, hasn't slept. Hasn't said a word to anyone."

"And he hasn't let go of that photo the entire time."

She looks at him suddenly, and he nods.

"I think the fact that his father loved him has hit him harder than his death has," Eric says.

And Blair nods, because she knows he's right.

Saying goodbye to a man he never knew; a father who was never there; a _Daddy_ that never truly loved him, that he could do. Saying goodbye to a misconception was something different entirely.

_"The hardest thing in life is letting go of what you thought was real."  
__- Unknown_

**  
TBC…**

* * *

Well, this is the longest chapter, which is saying something. I'm not used to the ultra-short instalments, but they fit here, so… I hope they're not too bad :)  
Also, apologies for any indiscrepancies with the tense, I pretty much suck at present tense, and this is one of my attempts at improving on it ;)

Thanks for reading, and please let me know what you thought – means a lot!  
Steph  
xxx


	3. Chapter 2

A/N: Bold type is memories/past events. It's also in the past tense, which should make it easier to follow too.

Apologies if you get confused by the backward-ness of how I've composed this, though it should become clearer soon enough - or possibly if you read a certain part in the last chapter :)

Sorry too for the absolute tiny-ness of this chap.

Also, one slight SPOILER, I suppose, if you haven't read the Gossip Girl Blog entry for Bart & Lily's wedding. I've marked it (+) if it helps ;) It is NOT a season 2 spoiler.

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Chapter Two

_"We need lies… in order to live."  
- Friedrich Nietzsche_

"**If you expect me to be grateful, you're highly misinformed," he told her simply.**

**She sighed low in her throat, and reflexively jerked at his bandaging a little harder than she had to, "If I expected you to be grateful, Bass, I'd be delusional."  
****  
He flinched lightly at the last tug she gave the makeshift bandage and threw a glower in her direction.  
****  
"You think by doing this you'll prove you're better than me?" he watched her through thinly veiled eyes.**

**"I already know that I'm better than you, Bass. Doing this simply makes me soft," she said, sounding far more tired than she should, though she gave him the smallest of smiles.**

**She reached behind him and fixed the pillow, plumping it before lowering his head with her hand onto the cool, soothing surface. **

**He slowly closed his eyes.**

**She started to stand up, but his hand shot out faster than she could have imagined possible from an injured man, and seized her wrist in a death grip. Maybe she had misjudged how wounded he actually was.**

**"This doesn't change anything, Waldorf," he told her coolly, "Your moment of weakness is going to cost you. As has mine."**

**"You know what? If I cared about you more, I might hate you," she snapped as she yanked her arm back violently.**

**Chuck simply watched her almost lazily, still trying to get his shaking under control.**

**"You'll hate me eventually," he said softly; the words slurred with sleep but no less determined. "Everybody does."**

**"It's the Bass way," she heard him breathe out; resigned.**

**And in the darkness, she couldn't help the tears that fell.**

X

She comes to when she hears Eric calling her name.

"Are _you_ ok?" he asks her then, watching her carefully.

His eyes catch onto the hand on her wrist, unconsciously rubbing the marred skin; and when she sees this, she quickly looks down, tearing the fingers from their place and clasping them in her lap.

She gives him a reassuring smile, meeting his eyes for the briefest of moments before looking away, saying; "Fine, yes – I'm fine."

"It'll take some time, I know, but he'll be ok," he tells her. "Chuck's strong, and as much as I hate to say it; he has been through this before."+

She nods, because once again he's right. +Only, when Misty died it hadn't been like this. And Blair hadn't been the one he'd self-destructed with; no, that was what the endless supply of alcohol and women were for.

"I'm just worried, you know," she says, turning to look at him.

It's his turn to nod in agreement, as he says resignedly, "Yeah, I am too."

She catches his anxious glance across to the closed doors of Chuck's bedroom, and hears him sigh. She reaches across and clasps his hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze; suffering was in their nature.

X

**She exited Chuck's room, closing the door behind her, and leaning back against the cool wood as she released a long breath. Tears rolled down her cheeks and she fell to the floor, drawing her knees up to her chest, and letting out a strangled sob.**

**He was suffering, so badly, she knew. And he was lashing out in the only way he knew how. He couldn't truly be held accountable for his words, or his actions; it was just his way. She could only hope she was strong enough to carry them both through this.**

_  
"What you leave behind is not what is engraved in stone monuments, but what is woven into the lives of others."  
- Pericles._

**  
TBC…**

* * *

Hope you liked, and please let me know what you thought – means a lot!  
Steph  
xxx


	4. Chapter 3

A/N: Bold type is memories/past events. It's also in the past tense, which should make it easier to follow too.

Apologies if you get confused though, it should become clearer soon enough.

Also, once again, one slight SPOILER (same one as before) I suppose, if you haven't read the Gossip Girl Blog entry for Bart & Lily's wedding. I've marked it (+) if it helps ;) It is NOT a Season 2 spoiler.

* * *

Chapter Three

_"You can close your eyes to the things you do not want to see, but you cannot close your heart to the things you do not want to feel."  
__- Anonymous_

"He smashed every mirror he could find," her voice is small, her vulnerability exposed, and in the fading light he can see the tracks of her tears on her pale skin.

"Every glass, every reflective surface," she tells him.

"You know what scares him most of all?" she asks.

His eyes are open; and she shares in his helplessness, hoping to provide comfort.

She turns to look at the young man who has come to care about the other in the room they're waiting vigil next to, almost as much as she herself does, and says, "It's that he doesn't know who his father is anymore, and all he has left now to provide the answers is himself."

X

**She heard the muffled voices, their words gaining more clarity as two bodies appeared before them.**

"**Charles Bass?"**

**He looked up, raised his head slowly, disdain dripping from his very being at the intrusion.**

**His eyes narrowed: she watched the woman flinch slightly and the man's actions still, and realized that even in grief; a Bass is still a Bass.**

**They spoke of where they were from: Child Services, and why they were there: he's still a minor. +And, failing to phrase it lightly, they told him: he is effectively an orphan; father – dead, mother – **_**unknown**_**.**** He needed to come with them, they told him.**

**+She could tell he was tempted to growl out, "My mother's dead too, you half-wits," but he didn't, he wouldn't; it's one of the best-kept Upper East Side secrets, how Misty Bass died; and he's never betray that, or her memory.**

"**I don't **_**need**_** to do anything," his voice was hoarse, but the venom it ensued cut through the room like the parting of the Red Sea. "Least of all, listen to the likes of **_**you**_**."**

"**I'm afraid, without being able to speak to Mrs. van der Woodson – "**

"**He's my brother," a voice suddenly spoke up from behind them. "And it's **_**Bass**_**."**

**Long, flowing blonde hair came into view and if she didn't know any better she'd say they'd been graced by the presence of an angel.**

**His eyes seemed to clear for a second, before fog encompassed them once more.**

**And just then, he was back to the Chuck Bass she'd known practically her whole life: arrogant, smarmy, and the son of the **_**living**_** Bart Bass.**

**The smirk slid along his lips with a careful ease, a practice only seen through years of perfecting art, and his head cocked to the side: his eyes dancing for that single moment.**

"**As always, your timing is impeccable, sis," he directed at the blonde.**

**She rolled her eyes at him and, for a minute longer, it was like they were back to the uncomplicated and comfortable sibling bickering that they'd become so accustomed to in such a short time.**

**The two stiffs looked skeptical, and the blonde spoke again, "You can check Constance Billard school if you don't believe us. There's a library being constructed in our name."**

"**And I'll be happy to supply any records of marriage or any other documents you might need, but right now, I think you ought to leave my brother alone."**

"**Yes, kindly leave," her own voice cut through the room commandingly as she sent them a hard look.**

**Then she gave them both a once-over; let's them know she didn't approve of what they'd done in the slightest, and added hotly; "We were having a moment."**

**His head was dipped once more, and her fingers curled themselves around a wayward strand of hair by his ear; as she leaned forward, rested her forehead against his temple and breathed onto his skin, "I'm here for you, Chuck. I'm always here for you."**

**She felt the salt of his tears against her lips and kissed them away with all she had to give.**

_  
"There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are messengers of overwhelming grief… and unspeakable love."  
- __Washington Irving_

**  
TBC…**

* * *

Thanks for reading, and please let me know what you though – means a lot!  
Steph  
xxx


	5. Chapter 4

Hey!  
Ok, so here's the final installment of _Pietas_.  
I hope you like it, and that it clears up any confusion from prior parts :)

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Chapter Four

"_If we hate a person, we hate something in our image of him that lies within ourselves. What is not within ourselves doesn't upset us."  
- __Hermann Hesse_

**  
The City Official-duo had barely been out of the room two minutes when the change came over him.**

**Blair recognized it instantly; saw the storm that was brewing in his eyes darken and intensify, felt his fingers twitch and his body tense.**

**In an instant he was up out of his seat.**

**He stole one last, long look at the photo in his hand before his fingers curled round it, crumpling it mercilessly and watching as it dropped to the floor. His eyes turned up and she saw them narrow as he glared at his reflection.**

**And then, before she could even rise out of her place to stop him, he'd picked up the glass on the side-table and hurled it straight at the large mirror opposite.**

**It shattered on impact, and his chest heaved as she watched the pieces fall, his image skewed and distorted: the splintering of its downfall ringing heavily in the air around them.**

**She was in shock; so much so, that he'd added the whole bar to his resume of destruction before she snapped out of it enough to scream his name.**

**He turned to look at her, eyes dark and jaw set; and then he breezed right by her and stalked into the bathroom.**

**She followed, and flinched when she heard the crash of metal on stone.**

**As she reached the door, however, she saw something else take over him. She watched the rage manifest itself in his clenched fists; saw something flicker in his eyes that was closer to hurt than anger.**

**And then he reeled back his arm, and with a grind of teeth, thrust it into the huge mirrored panel in front of him.**

**She screamed, his name among other things, and rushed forward; grabbing hold of him and pulling his arm towards her as his reflection fell in pieces all around them.**

"**What the Hell do you think you're doing?" she demanded. "Why did you do that?"**

**His eyes became glassy, and it's a moment of complete clarity she's not sure she'll ever get again, he whispered hoarsely, "I could see him in me, and I couldn't picture him any other way."**

X

She hears a dull _thud_ from the room nearby, and is up and out of her seat in an instant, leaving Eric stilted in his place; throwing the doors open and immediately scanning the room for the source.

She finds him by the bed; his back against the side, one leg outstretched, the other drawn in close to his chest, his arms strewn at odd angles across his limbs, and his head bowed.

She moves towards him, and sees the crinkled photo once again in his grasp; the sharp, glistening lines down his cheeks.

Blair Waldorf has never witnessed Chuck Bass falling apart before now, and it shakes her to the very core.

His earlier display could have been interpreted as such, but she knows better; that was sheer, raw pain. But this, this is pure grief; this is her witnessing his very undoing.

No, she has never seen him fall apart. And, after this, it is something she never wants to see again.

Because it isn't pretty. Or graceful. It isn't held together or strong.

It's the exact opposite.

It's ugly, and heartbreaking, and she can feel tears come to her own eyes to see him suffering _so much_. To see him on the ground, choking out sobs, practically _begging_ for his father back.

She's by his side in a half a second, holding him, trying through some divine province to take some of his pain away, but she can't. And it's really and truly killing her. Because all she can do is be there with him, let him cry into her shoulder, and hope that this is the worst she'll ever have to see of him. Because she's not sure if either of them could cope with anything else.

It's too raw, and too painful, and too _much_. And it hurts too goddamn much as well.

"I love you, Chuck Bass," she tells him fiercely, tightening her arms around him, holding him even closer. "And nothing is ever going to change that."

And through a fog of tears she feels him nod against her chest; his fingers gripping onto her like she's his only hope, his last thread of survival; and the broken words spill from his lips, "I love you too."

_  
"Sometimes you can't make it on your own."  
- __Bono_

****

The End.

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I hope you liked it – told you it wasn't too long – and I hope how I wrote it wasn't too confusing ;) What with the tenses, and the backward and forth-ness, and the constant use of 'she' et al – apologies if it did, though.

Suffice to say, Chuck and Blair get through it, together - sorry I didn't carry on and write more, I probably would have, but since I posted this so late and the Season 2 premiere is tonight, I figure it's best left where it is. Besides, I quite like the ending ;)

Oh, and in case anyone was wondering, the title _Pietas_ came from the Latin story of Aeneas and his journey to the Underworld to save his father; it basically goes into his filial duty, as well as his duty to respect the Gods, and ... a whole load of other stuff, but it was mainly the filial side I was going for in linkage to this ;) I studied it when I did Latin at school, and it just seemed to fit with this quite well, so there ye go :)

Thanks for reading and/or reviewing, alerting, favouriting – it means a lot!  
Steph  
xxx


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